This Is How We Win

Liberty is not ordered by mail from Amazon. Freedom grows on trees exactly nowhere, at any time in human history. The colonists didn't vote King George out of office. The Redcoats weren't thrown out in the midterms. Their removal was by shellfire, musketry, and bayonets. If you thought liberty was going to descend from heaven indefinitely on a velvet cushion as the gift from a benevolent deity and thoughtful forefathers, you're in for a severe disappointment, exactly as some of you have already sussed out. Freedom will not drop out of the skies until communists and tyrants (but I repeat myself) do so as well.

To get those things, you have to go out on the plains of tyranny and kill the predators, if you want the red meat of freedom in your bellies. 'Twas ever thus, and ever shall be. You may not be the ones doing the trigger pulling or helicopter passenger unloading, come the day, but you damned sure better be down with those who are. If you can't find 3AM friends, you had better be one, and looking for the opportunity. And if you get the chance, even fleetingly, to join in the festivities, you'd better take full advantage of same. Or you'll regret it, all the way to the boxcars, and while sitting in exactly the very camps you imagined would never return. Of which your unsleeping enemies now speak openly.

If that's too hard for you to wrap your head around, let alone do, you won't have to ever worry again about what to think, or do, or how to live your lives. Because the chances are surpassing excellent that someone else will make those decisions for you every minute of your miserable remaining existence. Ask the rest of the Anglosphere (formerly-great Britain, Oz, NewZ, and Canada) how that's working out for them this very minute. As usual, we're the only ones left, and things here are looking sketchy at best, and ominously doubtful. Pretty much as in all such times.

If you're not up for such an animating struggle, stay on the porch with the little dogs. Maybe you'll be the unwitting receiver of the blessings of liberty anyways. Maybe not. And in the meantime, "May your chains rest lightly on your wrists, and may posterity forget that you were ever our brethren."

And those pictures, above? That's how you can tell, beyond all argument, that we are not amidst any such armed conflict, no matter what anyone else imagines. When they cease to be memes, and become every day, then maybe the fencesitters and thumb-up-the-fundament types will finally twig to the notion that unless there are two sides trading lead, it's not a conflict. It's simply a slaughterhouse.

It's your life, your freedom and liberty. Either fight for it tooth and nail, while you yet have the means, or accept that you'll die without it. (And voting a crop into existence is about as likely as pissing on the furrows by way of irrigation. Never worked, never will.) Unlike weeds and thorns, freedom isn't going to spring up of its own accord.